Now That It's Over
by MishaMuse
Summary: Nothing in this world is stronger than love. One shot, written for Halloween, 2012.


Now That It's Over

A/N: The title comes from Everclear's "Now That It's Over." I'm not entirely happy with how this turned out, but it's been so long since I wrote ANYTHING that I'm letting it stand. Happy Halloween!

She wasn't supposed to find him like this, half drugged and partially drunk. He hadn't thought she'd show up. She'd said that she wouldn't, but there she stood, long hair blowing in the breeze. It slipped across her face like silk, and he wanted to touch it, but there was a screen between them. "Are you going to invite me in?" she asked after a long moment.

Matt's mouth felt dry. "Oh. Sorry." He pushed the screen outward, forcing her off the stoop to allow it to open. "I didn't think you'd come tonight."

"I was bored." She waited, her head cocked.

Matt cleared his throat. "Come in, Mickie." She smiled, the teeth flashing in the weak porch light and making him shiver. He always felt so stupid, saying it so formally, but she insisted…

"Thank you," she said, pushing past him. "I love what you've done with the place." Her voice was teasing. Matt surveyed the room with a critical eye. It looked the same as the last time she'd been here, except for the dust. He muttered an apology and swiped some of it away. "Don't worry about it. I didn't come to criticize your housekeeping skills."

"You were always better at that than I was." He indicated the couch. "Have a seat. Do you want anything to eat or drink?"

She smiled and took a seat. "No thank you. You know I can't."

"And you know I have to ask." He grabbed a bottle of Whiskey from the sideboard and took a seat across from her.

She nodded. "Matt, we should talk about this."

He busied himself with the magazines on the table. They were all at least three years old. "Not yet." He met her eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

She sighed. "I'm not staying, you know."

"Not this time," he said. "But next time, maybe."

"There won't be a next time. Matt…"

"There's always a next time," he said. "What if I subscribe to that magazine you like? Woman's Week, wasn't it?"

Mickie shrugged helplessly. "It's not going to bring me back here."

"It might," Matt said angrily. "I wish you would just try…"

That made her laugh, although it sounded bitter. "Try? Is that really your advice, Matt? Look at you! You've given up! You haven't done a damned thing in the last three years. You've stagnated. You can't live like this anymore."

"Then I won't." He reached into his pocket and removed a pill bottle.

"What is that?" she asked.

Matt tipped the bottle so the pills would rattle. "Salvation. An end to the pain."

Mickie's breath caught. "You can't be serious."

He tilted the bottle slowly. "You're wrong about me. I haven't spent the last year doing nothing. I've been to the doctor every month, faithfully. I've collected the pills he gave me. I've acted like it helped, all the while knowing that tonight…" He paused, his eyes on the bottle. "Tonight, whether you came or not, this was going to be the end."

"Matt, don't…"

"Because I can't do it anymore." He lifted his gaze to meet hers. "I'm so sorry about what I did to you, Mickie."

"It was an accident," she said softly.

Matt popped the lid off the pills and dumped some into his hand. "This won't be."

"Don't," she said.

Matt threw the handful of pills into his mouth and swallowed. He wanted to choke on them, but he managed to get them down. "It won't be long."

"I'm not going to sit by and watch you do this."

"You don't have a choice," Matt snapped. "Just like I didn't."

"Please," she whispered. "I'll come back next year."

"It's not enough. It's never going to be enough. Not anymore. If I can't have you forever, then I may as well…" He shook out more pills and slid them into his mouth, one by one. Then he grabbed the Whiskey bottle and took a gulp, closing his eyes as the liquid burned his throat.

"There are people who can help you. Jeff…"

"My brother wants nothing to do with me," he said flatly. "I don't blame him."

Mickie's eyes filled with tears. "I'm not going to sit here and watch you kill yourself." She stood. "It's not too late."

"It's been too late for years." Matt upended the bottle into his mouth, then stood, unsteadily weaving toward the kitchen. "I loved you, Mickie. Please remember that."

"I loved you, too," she whispered, standing.

When he returned, he had several more bottles of pills. "If you're going to go, now's the time."

She bit her lip and nodded. "Matt…" She reached out to touch him. He closed his eyes and tried to feel her skin on his, but all he felt was the cold. She pulled back her fingers, staring at them. "I miss touching you."

"Goodbye, Mickie. If this works, we'll be together again soon. One night a year was never enough."

She shook her head. "I'll put in a good word, but you know that suicides never end up with the rest of us."

Matt settled on the couch and opened a pill bottle. He shrugged. "At this point, it doesn't matter anymore, so long as the pain stops. I made sure to buy the plot next to yours, so even if we're not together in heaven, our bodies will be together in the ground." He closed his eyes and got comfortable. "When I'm done here, I'll finally be able to sleep again. Stay with me until then?"

"I will," she said, tears in her eyes. "Just until it's time."

The last thing he heard before he drifted away was the sound of the door opening and his brother's scream of pain and horror, the final note in his song of despair.


End file.
